Future Regrets
by TrulyWished
Summary: I fibbed, it wasn't my last one. Klaus considers funerals, the past and the future. Dorian makes himself comfortable.


It was raining again

It was raining again. The funeral party had long since slipped away in the darkening afternoon turned to dusk. Klaus tipped his head back and stared at the clouds for a moment. It hadn't been one of his.

This time.

He remembered clearly the last funeral he'd attended, standing silent beside K, an arm discretely around the thin waist to hold him up towards the end. L, no, Luther, Luther Ashby now, lay as still and quiet as he'd always been in life. Klaus only realized in his absence how stabilizing his presence had been, how the older man had calmed and gentled his younger team-mates.

The Major remembered standing rigidly straight, the rest of his men lined up neatly behind K and him. G's soft tears were nearly inaudible and the small hand clenched in the back of his uniform, clinging to a piece of reality in his grief and fear. It would have been disrespectful to the dead to swat at the young man, newly assigned and only just coming to grips with the mortality of his position, and the desperate touch was allowed. The tears of the newly widowed Mrs. Ashby and the hate in a thirteen year old girl's eyes remained brilliant even after almost a year.

It was easy to feel guilty about the seemingly useless death. It was never supposed to be dangerous. At least no more dangerous than any mission, a simple drop and receive of low security documents. Or Klaus would never have sent three new agents with L. All three came back, bruised and battered with the sheen in their eyes dulled a bit but alive. L's body had been returned as a sign of good faith by a nameless official from an equally nameless organization, citing errors in judgement and assurances of discipline.

Klaus still hadn't figured out how to explain such errors to a teenage girl.

A deep rain tinted breath and he tipped his head back, letting the mist settle on his skin. How long, until he was back here? Letting rain fall on his face and saying goodbye to another young man? Which of his would be cold and still next? He ran through his team mentally, mouthing their names as he considered each one. Their particular quirks made him smile internally, sober expression never changing.

G, with his outrageous behaviour and ridiculously inappropriate name; Galen for calm. B with horrid habits of eating junk food on the job and lying on his desk when he thought no one would catch him. A, who tried to be serious and always ended up distracted by the first shiny thing to come along. C, who looked steady and reliable but was only actually good for finding D when he wandered off. D who loved celebrities and would escape at least once on every mission to look for the latest gossip rag. His commander ignored him stubbornly as long as the mission was unaffected. U, W, X, and Y, the quartet from hell, could be counted on to inevitably find the most expensive restaurant in the city and make enough of a fuss as to be allowed to eat there on the NATO account.

E and T, who both, for some odd reason, liked paperwork and could be easily intimidated into doing even Klaus' share. And keep their mouths shut about it too. S who carried good chocolate in his pocket at all times and would share if frowned at correctly. F with his laughable pillow; he refused to sleep alone without it. M was the most frequent victim and tolerated it easily enough; being afraid of the dark helped, Klaus was sure. N, the Major was certain, stood for naïve; that boy would follow Satan straight into Hell if the skirt was short enough.

K who still stuck close, trailing directly on A's heels; his desk had magically migrated to right in front of Klaus' sometime in the last few months. Not that he had much competition for his chosen position. J had helpfully volunteered to take over the new L's training, which mostly consisted of whispering annoying warnings about the Major's moods. R with his porn mags he thought no one knew about, even through the entire office had borrowed them at some time or another. Except Klaus and G, of course.

Z with his too serious eyes and the blind faith in Klaus. H with his newlywed packed lunches and constant pictures of his 'eternally gorgeous' wife. There were bets going around as to how long before the lunches stopped coming. The secret handshakes I and P adored so and that no one else could do; it made them a good team but not much for working with others. Thin rubber gloves that Q had wear because he chewed his nails so badly they bled and it would be bad policy to leave little blood fingerprints behind; he also left them on his desk after and suffered hours of teasing for not disposing of his rubbers. The Major always growled at the reminder of Eroica's influence on his men.

Then there was V, whom the Major could swear had never gone for any type of formal schooling; his handwriting was atrocious and the only thing worse was his spelling. All of his reports made two or three passes through A before they got anywhere near Klaus' desk, where he usually proceeded to rip them to shreds in sheer frustration. O was his exact opposite, perfect in spelling, grammar and form at all times. He was also obsessed with mythology and could ramble for hours if he was allowed to start.

By the time he had made it through his list, the damp mist had turned to a gentle rain. Klaus continued to stand with his face turned upwards, thinking of the young man they had just buried, of the pregnant young woman who had stood silently staring into space, one trembling hand over her extended belly. Her eyes had shown her fear and he'd sent A and Z specifically to speak gently to her. Of course she would get a pension but it was never a good time to be a single mother. Green eyes closed tightly; another child born without a father.

A soft flutter of light cloth in the wind and the thud of rain on an umbrella heralded long fingers sliding over the brunet's exposed throat. Eroica; who else would have the nerve to touch him so casually? He couldn't even be angry today. "What?"

"What are you thinking of, my serious Major?" Dorian ran his hand delicately over the strong neck and patted a broad shoulder before pulling away. The Major had had a long day and was due a moment's respite from teasing. "It wasn't one of your charming boys, was it?"

"That doesn't make his life any less worthy!" Klaus snapped and glared at the offending blond. How dare he suggest that simply because he was unknown that young man was unworthy of being mourned, that the young soon-to-be mother was grieving less! "He died doing his duty and"

The blond stepped forward and leaned his forehead on the sturdy shoulder. "Of course. My apologies, I didn't mean to belittle his sacrifice." Klaus shrugged immediately to remove the touch but long curls remained pressed against his uniform. The umbrella waved precariously close to his face and he removed it from its owner to hold it steady. Purely self preservation; being blind would make him a most ineffective agent. Letting the blond press against him and invade his space was a small price to pay for the use of shelter.

Rain continued to fall, patting against tightly stretched fabric. The only sounds were two sets of steady breathing and a combined heartbeat. Klaus ran his finger over the delicate cherry wood of the shaft and let his thoughts roam where they would. How long until he stood at a grave side and watched Dorian slide into the cool earth? Though, knowing the Earl, it would be more of a monument than a simple grave.

Long arms slipped slowly around the uniformed waist, moving carefully to clasp behind the rigid back. Dorian waited for the explosion and settled a bit more closely when it didn't come immediately. He wondered briefly if the Major was pondering his own mortality and shrugged it off as unimportant. The important thing was the comfort he was being allowed to provide.

A soft sound, the briefest chatter of teeth drew Klaus to look behind him. A huddled in his long coat, B shivering beside him as they waited for him. "Major, sir? It's getting a bit late, sir." Not criticism but a question: Are we going back?

The long haired brunet blinked slowly and looked around, suddenly realizing how dark it had gotten; the only light came from the lamps surrounding the cemetery. Its harshness was softened by the Earl's hair, giving it a gentle glow as it rested against the coarse uniform. Only then did he realize that they were standing there, Dorian hugging him in the rain.

"Aah!" The blond was shoved off with a curse and took a step back easily. "Keep your filthy hands off me!"

"Oh, Major, is that any way to treat someone who wants only to comfort and adore you?" Long fingers flittered at Klaus teasingly and he resisted the urge to grab them and snap each one. "Well, your darlings are correct, it is late and I need my rest you know." The thief laughed, tossing his head in full Eroica fashion. "Busy, busy."

"Get lost, you bloody wanker! And don't show up here again!" Even though he knew he would, just like he always did. "You lazy morons, how long are you going to stand there? Get that car started!"

A and B scrambled satisfactorily and Klaus strode after them. Another day and another mission awaited, another test of his abilities and another chance to protect his little flock. Regardless of Eroica's absence and the rapidly cooling spot on his shoulder, Klaus would just have to lead as he always had and hope they followed closely enough that he wouldn't have to go back for anyone.


End file.
